


Saudade

by AriWrote



Series: Soulbound verse [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest Spoilers, If one wants to read it as such, Implied Xander/Nyx, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7002253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriWrote/pseuds/AriWrote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your soulmate died today, did they not?”<br/>-<br/>A side story for <em>By Fate's Hands and Human's Making</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saudade

 “Come to impart more fortunes, soothsayer?” Xander says through grit teeth. All he’d wanted to do was enjoy the blessed few hours the Astral Plane allowed him before he had to return to the battlefield. Could he not have even that without someone bothering him?

“No, only condolences,” Nyx says. Xander pauses and some of the anger that had been building up in him dissipates. He’d not expected that answer. For a moment he’s confused as to what she means, before he notices where she’s looking. She does not hide her interest in the place where his soulmark should be (the place that now stings with the pain of an open wound, where blood glues cloth to skin), “Your soulmate died today, did they not?”

“Yes,” Xander says and even he is surprised at how easily he says it. He’d never been open about soulmarks, even to those he was close to. Maybe it’s the shock, but the trepidation that once held him back is no longer there to still his lips, “Yes, they did.”

“Did you know who it was?” Had the fact that he’d yet to send her away inspire in Nyx a little more bluntness than usual?

A conversation on soulmates was the last thing he needed or wanted. He should send her away and be done with it all. At the same time, the only word that comes is a response to her question. “I... do not.”

It’s a lie and the look on Nyx’s face makes it clear that she knows. How could he not know? The scene still plays in his mind. The unmistakable pain –different from the pain of battle wounds- hits him so suddenly. The high prince of Hoshido is using his own sword to end his life, by Xander cannot see through the sudden dizziness that hits him. There’s emotions blaring in his mind that he knows are not his, but by the Gods they feel as familiar as such. The child in him that still fears his father is practically yelling at him to keep it under control lest his father turn his attention from the scene before them and notice that his heir is minutes from toppling over. It’s only years spent learning to push through the pain of bruises and cuts that help him regain his composure.

At first, he cannot place what has him like this. Had a Hoshidan mage managed to escape and strike him in some weak attempt at stalling the Nohrian army? That explanation does not seem to fit. Through the whirlwind of foreign emotion, a memory comes to mind. His mother had invited him on one of her walks through the garden. They’d been idly chatting about what ever passed through Xander’s mind when his mother let out a sharp cry and crumpled to the ground. He’d been young, no older than eight, and so very confused. He remembers dropping down beside her, ready to offer what little help he could. At first, when he saw the blood staining the white hem of his mother’s dress, he’d been convinced that she’d been shot. No matter that they were the only ones around or that he could see nothing that could have hit his mother; as soon as he saw the blood, he’d been ready to run for help. His mother’s tight grip on his arm was the only thing that stopped him. Her grip was painful, but it felt wrong to complain. He’d sat there, trying not to breakdown as well, before his mother had pulled him in a hug. It’d take several minutes for her to calm down and even then she’d only made him promise to never speak of what had transpired that day. As a young boy who’d received most of his knowledge of soulmarks from fairytales, he’d had no idea what was wrong with his mother. Fairytales never did want to cover what happens when a soulmate dies.

The Prince of Hoshido fell and it took all of Xander’s willpower not to fall as well.

Xander expects her to call him out on the lie, but instead she casts her eyes downwards and says, “It does not ease the blow.”

“You speak from experience?” He gestures to where she has begun to rub at her wrist. In another situation, he might have written it off as a nervous habit. Now it just looks like someone reaching out for a soulmark that has long scarred over.

Nyx pauses. She releases her wrist and lets it fall back to her side. The breath she takes is shaky. “Not quite, but I am familiar with the pain of losing a soulmate. It is not an easy thing to get over.”

 It’s comforting to know she is not motivated by pity, but by the understanding of one who knew what it was like to lose a soulmate. He does not think he could have handled had it been pity that had brought her to wait at his tent.

“I would lend my assistance if you’ll have it,” Nyx says. “I do not assume you’ve tended to your soulmark since the bond was broken.”

“You would be correct.” He’d had plans to tend to his wounds himself once he’d returned to his tent. Though his skills were few, he could not stand the idea of allowing someone to see what had become of his soulmark. He’d never particularly liked letting people see his soulmark and the death of his soulmate did not help that. He offers what he hopes is a polite smile and continues, “While I appreciate the offer, I must decline.”

“I understand,” Nyx murmurs. She step aside and Xander assumes that signals the end of the conversation. He’s halfway into his tent when Nyx’s voice stops him in his tracks, “Before I go, I’d like to offer this instead.”

Xander pauses and turns to face her. In her hands is a small jar. There is no indication what it might and he can only guess as to what the contents are. Nyx’s voice is soft as she says, “It should help. The marks of broken soulbonds take longer than normal injuries to heal, even when healing magic is employed. Since you do not wish for help, it’s the least I can offer.”

“It should ease the scarring as well,” she mumbles. It’s said as an afterthought, but Xander knows the implications. He’d read stories of the scars left after a soulbond broke. How the mark that had once reminded you of the love you could have had, became a mass of ugly scar tissue that only reminded you of what you’d lost. Though she said, “It’ll ease the scarring,” she meant, “It’ll help you forget.”

It was a surprising offer. Forgetting was taboo. You weren’t _supposed to forget_. Every book that even dared to mention what happened when a soulmate died made that abundantly clear. You must remember, even if you’d never met your soulmate (even if your soulmate was the dead prince of the enemy kingdom, of the very kingdom you’d helped conquer). To do anything else was desecrating the very idea of soulmates.

He does not hesitate to pluck the jar from Nyx’s hands. She says nothing, only offers a curt nod before walking away.  Xander lets of a sigh of relief and ducks into his tent. Forgetting may be shameful, but he could not handle remembering.  

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, Xander, if only it were that easy. The scars may fade, but you'll never really forget. I may or may not cover the other deaths that happen through out the many routes.


End file.
